


The Pinocchio Effect

by Taio



Category: Animaniacs, Looney Tunes | Merrie Melodies, Tiny Toon Adventures
Genre: Angst, Cussing, Father Figures, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Slow Burn, Terminal Illnesses, Very slight crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29261766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taio/pseuds/Taio
Summary: Blue light fills the room. The room so deep underground, the words coming from the glass container cannot be heard. The blue wand glows, with nobody to see it. The blue wand speaks, with nobody to hear it. The blue wand exists, with nobody to wield it, sitting in a glass prison. The blue wand sits with a purpose not yet discovered. Her power stays dormant for decades. The power to heal, change, and ignite. Nobody has discovered her. The concept of her was nonexistent. Until 3 certain Warner's snoop their red noses where they were never supposed to go.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. "Child" exploitation

The car bumping along the pothole infested road was not enough to rip Yakko Warner from his trance. Not his sister playing her switch next to him, (full volume, lovely.) And not even Wakko doing some serious damage on a bag of Takis. Yakko was stuck in a complete daze from the events that just occurred.

_How can these cock sucking lowlife billionaire wall street asshole stretching MOTHERFUCKERS cut our yearly salary in HALF. FUCKING HALF?? What the fuck do those mouth breathing cunt faced pricks need the money for?? Their 5th luxury jet?? Another mansion in the Bahamas? For the inhuman hours we work on this damn second season, our pay should be DOUBLED! FUCK THIS._

Yakko sat staring straight ahead in good ol’ Scratchy’s blue sedan. He stared through the windshield, through the cars ahead, through the buildings surrounding them in downtown L.A. All he saw was red. His oblivious siblings were not in attendance of the meeting where the news was broken to him, being told to stay in the car. The 30 minutes spent in a stuffy conference room with even stuffier business people felt like eons. He had Scratch by his side, but his silence and compliance in that meeting spoke volumes. Scratch had stayed COMPLETELY silent as the corporate husks informed Yakko of his brand new salary. He just sat there looking straight down like a beaten dog. Yakko had never felt more betrayed. Dot took notice of Yakko’s expressionless face, only contradicted by his furrowed eyebrows.

“Yakko what’s wrong?? You haven’t even offered to play Mario kart with me yet.” Dot spoke meekly.

“Yeah, and you haven't even tried to steal a handful of my chips!” Wakko added, “Did something happen?” Before Yakko could answer, he was cut off by Scratch.

“Nothing happened kidsies, your brother just isn’t feeling well, right Yakko?” Scratchy nudged his head twice, indicating him to give the “correct” answer.

“Yeah. Probably something I ate last night.” Yakko replied, staring daggers at Scratch through the rearview mirror. He hated having to lie to them. His siblings deserved to know, they shouldn’t be left in the dark like tiny babies who can’t handle anything. If he had it his way, he would tell his siblings everything he could. They are some of the most intelligent people he knows even if they don’t overtly show it, they can handle it.

But NO. The jack offs at corporate want to keep them in the dark in case they react badly. Which is completely understandable. They’re going from a liveable wage to terrifyingly below the poverty line. The only thing given to them by WB is the water tower for free. THAT'S IT. Paying for every other expense is going to be damn near impossible.

Yakko broke his inner monologue to see they had arrived home. He carefully watched his sibs and Scratch hop out. Slowly removing himself from the vehicle, he took note of the weather while walking towards the water tower. The sky was a blaring grey, with dark spots everywhere. _Rain? In L.A.?? It’s a miracle!_ Plans for taking an afternoon walk were ruined, nice.

He’s been meaning to explore the lot a bit more. He heard rumors from other toons that WB had an underground labyrinth where they keep important files. Curiosity had piqued his child mind, so the obvious answer was to break and enter. But is it really breaking and entering if you live there? They got to the ladder, with Dot and Wakko climbing up first. As he was about to climb up, a hand was gently placed on his shoulder.

“Hey Yakko, can I talk to you for a second? It’s important.” Scratchy said lightly. Yakko glanced up to his siblings who were looking down at him, confused. 

“You guys go on ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.” Yakko stepped down from the ladder and waited until he heard the giant metal door close.

“Yakko I-”

“Do NOT even start with that,” Yakko interrupted, leaving Scratchy in stunned silence. “You let me get fucked over in that meeting and did nothing, and now you expect me to LIE to my siblings like la-dee-da-dee-da everything is perfect fucking rainbows?? You LEFT ME HANGING IN THERE.” Yakko yelled. Scratchy had to take a step back. He had never in his entire career seen Yakko get genuinely upset, to the point of raising his voice.

“Yakko please-” 

“NO. YOU DON'T GET TO SAY PLEASE. IF YOU WANT TO MAKE IT UP TO ME OR WHATEVER YOU STONE COLD HEARTED INDUSTRY DROIDS DO, TELL MY SIBLINGS THEIR ENTIRE LIVES ARE GOING TO CHANGE.” Yakko screamed, cartoonish steam pouring out of his flopping ears.

“Can we PLEASE take this conversation to my office? I have more stuff you need to know and I don’t feel comfortable speaking of it here.” Scratchy finally managed to squeeze in. Yakko shot him a cold look.

“Yeah sure! Let’s go to your office where you can explain to me more of how the company I dedicated my entire existence to is gonna fuck me over! Sounds super!” Yakko snapped sarcastically. Scratchy pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. He motioned for Yakko to follow him. Yakko obliged, after a huff and puff and a roll of his eyes.

Yakko settled himself on the stiff sofa situated by the floor to ceiling window of Scratchy’s office. This place always gave him the heebie jeebies. The sterile alcohol smell along with the GIANT portraits of Thaddeus Plotz looming over him never helped either. Scratchy sat opposite of him, in his rolling office chair. Scratchy looked down and stayed like that for what seemed to be forever. It was dead silence, cut only by a shocking confession.

“I’ve been fired.” Scratchy stated plainly. Yakko, still frozen, is harshly ripped out of his daydreams. _Fired? No way I heard that right._

“They told me yesterday. I have a month left.” Scratchy finished. Yakko stared at him, completely stunned. That cleared up a LOT of now misguided anger.

“Scratchy, I’m so sorry,” Yakko stutters “I-I had no clue. Did they let you know why they fired you?” Scratchy chuckled softly.

“Yeah, get this, “Forming an emotional connection with the property””...Property? What property? “Yakko that's also another thing I wanted to discuss with you, about why they’re cutting your pay.” Scratchy continues. “WB filed paperwork behind your back to get you 3 listed as property of Warner Brothers, instead of individual persons. This means they legally don’t even have to pay you a dime, what they are giving you is courtesy.” Yakko sits in silence. “In my opinion, this is a fat load of, and excuse my language, horse shit.” Scratchy finished. Yakko would laugh, but his head is still spinning. Property? _Property??_ _How are we nothing but PROPERTY to them?!_

“Scratch before I say anything else, and I have _much_ to release, I just want to apologize,” Yakko said. “I had no clue you had no power in that meeting, it just sucks getting ganged up on by a bunch of bigwigs in business suits.” Yakko just now notices tears rolling from Scratchy’s face, dropping onto the tile floor. “Oh fuck Scratch, I really didn’t mean-”

“Yakko you're completely fine, this isn’t about that. It's just you kids,” Scratchy paused, wiping his face with a tissue given to him by Yakko, “You kids are getting the short end of the stick. I already found a new job, but you guys don’t even have contracts anymore. You are nothing but property to this company, they value your personhood as much as a potted plant.”

Oh. _Oh no. This is worse._

“You mean we’re completely owned by WB, as much as they own objects, like camera equipment??” Yakko said, horrified.

“That’s unfortunately exactly what I’m saying. From what I can gather, they are only doing this to you kids. Say, Bugs Bunny for instance, is protected. He was considered his own person a looong time ago, as are most of the living WB cartoons.” Scratch states.

Perfecto! When Scratch said they were property, he didn’t think OBJECT property! How is this even legal? The sibs… How is he going to tell them this?

Yakko sat there for a long time. About 2 hours. Scratch had gotten him some water and told him to stay as long as he liked. He put on some T.V. for him too. As Scratchy did paperwork and other miscellaneous tasks required in the p-psychiatrist position, Yakko began to have doubts about his current, and past predicament. He was ready to voice everything now after this board meeting.

“Scratchy,” He began. Scratch looked alert up from his desk, where he was face deep in paperwork. “What’s it like being human?” He stated. Scratch stared at him. He expects many things from the Warner siblings but a growing existential crisis was NOT one of them.

“Why the sudden interest?” He inquired. Yakko continued to stare at the floor, defeat washed across his face.

“What is it like to grow? To be able to age and have children and go to normal school? To have so many people who are like you?” Yakko continued, “My entire life I’ve seen the world completely flying by me. Me and my sibs have watched our other child aged friends we met in the 40’s become adults with children and grandchildren while we… stay the same. Scratchy, it hurts **_SO_ **much to watch people evolve, to see trees grow and die 500 times over the seasons, to outlive people you met who were younger than you. It hurts.” Yakko finished.

Scratchy, for the umpteenth time today, was left in stunned silence. He didn’t know what to say. His mind couldn't comprehend that the same teenager he watched yesterday jump face first from the top of the water tower into the flimsy moldy mattress they found on the curb, is now sitting in his office confessing his want to be human. His _need_ to be human.

“My sibs feel the same way. We’ve talked about it.”

Scratchy can already feel he has a LOT on his plate his last month at this god forsaken company.

“How long have you kids felt like this?” Scratchy asked.

“Since we realized we outlived Michael Jackson. We were born before him, and we lived after him, it felt wrong. Of course it’s not like I want to die, I just want to experience life. Like genuine actual living.” Interesting. Scratch felt a tinge of relief knowing Yakko didn’t want to be dead 2 decades ago.

“Does it feel like you're an adult trapped in a kid's body?” Scratch asked, “Or more like a toon’s body?” Yakko sighed. 

“It doesn’t feel like that at all, and that's what worries me. It should! Being a toon I can’t age mentally or physically, I’m stuck like this until I off myself or the world decides to explode” Yakko takes a long sip of water from his cup after saying this. The air was so thick, not even the commotion of the T.V. could cut it.

“I can’t promise you anything my boy,” Scratchy began, “But I can promise you one thing. I will dedicate the rest of my 1 month remaining at this company to helping you and your siblings discover what you can about becoming human. I’ve never seen it happen before, but considering cartoons can jump off the paper and become sentient, I can’t doubt anything now, can I?” Scratchy had a sincere grin on his face. Yakko chuckled.

“Thanks, doc. Now can I go back to the tower? I wouldn’t be surprised if my sibs ripped the carpet up from cabin fever.” Yakko said. Scratchy motioned for him to exit, and with a sarcastic “Be gone hooligan!”, Yakko strutted out of the office and into the cold outdoors, where it had already started raining. He loved the way rain felt on him. It felt like aloe vera on a sunburn even if nothing hurt in the first place. It just felt nice. Yakko spent a few minutes jumping into small puddles and trying to drink the rain, embracing the soothing weather.

Noticing a sewer grate close in the corner of his eye, he stopped and whipped his head towards it. _The hell was that? Is someone hiding in there?_ The urge to investigate was strong, but the sudden and overpowering fear that took hold of him was stronger. It was irrational. Why was he so afraid? Was it a ghost? Was it someone trying to assassinate him for his bountiful wealth? Was it Pennywise? Whatever it was, he just got a horrible unexplained feeling even looking at the sewer grate.

The fear in his lower stomach traveled up his abdomen and revealed itself in a _very_ hoarse cough. One of those kinds that feel like needles in your chest. He doubled over in pain, still belting out the most painful coughs known to toonkind. _Is this what dying feels like? ‘Cuz if so, HURRY IT THE HELL UP!_ As the monster cough cleared up, and he was able to stand straight again, he felt... different. Not a good kind either. His limbs were shaky and aching, while his head was pounding to his heartbeat, and his chest was still on fire. _Oh crap, did I get sick from the rain? This quickly?!_ He stood, getting soaked for a while, before he realized he should probably get home before he gets even more sick. This felt strange though. To his knowledge, he thought toons couldn't catch contagious diseases. Shrugging it off, he began the trek home, excited to see his siblings beam when he entered. He always looked forward to that. To seeing them. Always.

*

The wand shakes. It shakes so hard it cracks the glass container its held in. The voices from it continue to speak. They speak to nothing. Buried so deep under literal and metaphorical corporate greed, it cannot be conceived. Yet.


	2. We da' illest (literally)

It’s been 4 days since Yakko had his rage-inducing meeting with the execs. Salt was still pouring onto his wound every day. He saw them in their offices. Being _happy_. The audacity! Their six figures and retirement savings laughed in his stupid little toon face. He should have grabbed his sibs and bolted when he had the chance.

He didn’t know why things had changed so quickly. Rumor was they were going to get bonuses due to the success of the reboot and then THIS happened? It didn’t make sense. The whole vibe of the WB lot was different since he was made to attend that meeting. Everything felt… fake. Artificial. The way the backstage crew spoke to him, the way higher ups would walk around looking busy, it was exactly the same but something very tiny that he couldn’t even figure out was _off._

He had 4 days to sit and contemplate this while on bedrest. After the coughing fit on his way home, it never stopped. It would occur only about every 5 hours, then every hour, then once every 30 minutes and now it's nonstop. If he breathed just a tad too hard it would start up again, and it hurt _terribly_. The migraine evolved to the point he was taking 3 aspirin every hour, despite the Nurse’s warnings. He could barely lift the glass of water he was left with. He tried to the day before and it was too heavy, it felt like he was lifting more than a gallon. With a shatter the thing exploded on the floor, and Dot and Wakko cleaned it up for him.

Dot and Wakko. The 2 people he trusted most in the world. They were the first ones to realize something was off with their big brother when he stumbled into the water tower, soaked, and promptly flopped himself onto the couch where he laid for 17 hours straight. Wakko tried to cure this by creating his own medicine, consisting of 3 bottles of Nyquil, a mountain dew, and a monster. He presented it to his big brother soup style, complete with a bayleaf on top and a little spoon.

Dot took a more practical approach, immediately informing Scratchy. Within 5 minutes he was over, assessing Yakko and declaring he had a simple cold. Probably the time he spent out in the rain. Rehearsal was thankfully halted until Yakko was feeling better. He never did. The days continued to go by, and here we are. On the exact same couch, in the exact same water tower, in even worse condition.

“Hey Dot, can you hand me the remote?” Yakko said, his voice barely audible from all of the coughing. “I’m sick of watching QVC. If I see any more mom jewelry I’m gonna hurl.” Dot gave him a concerned look, her eyes almost tearing up.

“You… You won’t be able to hold it. Just tell me what you want to watch and I’ll put it on.” She said, voice quivering.

“Woah woah woah! I didn’t mean to upset you, we can still watch QVC if you want, I was only kidding!” Yakko chuckled, surprised yet amused.

“Yakko it’s not that, look at you!” She began to sob, “You can barely lift your own arm up and it's only getting worse, I’m really worried! Remember that toons can’t “catch” anything. We really have no clue what’s happening to you!” She exclaimed.

Wakko came up behind her and hugged her, as she cried into the blanket Yakko had draped over him.

“I’ve been really worried too, but we didn’t want to make you worried with our worriedness!” Wakko continued, “We looked online at toon specific illnesses and none of your symptoms match. None of this is making sense!” Wakko slumps down, defeated.

“You guys don’t have to worry about me,” Yakko chokes up, making his words now barely readable, “I promise everything is going to be completely fine. I even feel a little better from yesterday! I’m the great and POWERFUL Yakko Warner! Could a sick person do THIS?!” 

Yakko shot up and began to tickle his siblings, laughter filling the air. Tears were still rolling, but they were tears of joy. Yakko sat back down when he felt he’d given them enough tickles. Dot and Wakko plopped themselves onto their big brother, forming a dog pile.

“The great and powerful Yakko has been defeated by GREMLINS! Not some stupid little cold! Mark my words! Blagh.” He stuck out his tongue while his eyes turned into little X’s, marking the end of his tyranny! As the siblings began to tickle attack him back to life, their fun was interrupted by a certain Scratchy busting the door open, dragging a duffel full of meds behind him. He was more determined than anyone to figure out why Yakko wasn’t getting better. The bags under his eyes were only more inflamed from the lack of sleep. He only had 3 and a half weeks to figure this out until he was legally not allowed to see the Warners again, per the WB contract. If he never got to see them again, he wanted to see them happy and healthy as he left. That’s the least he could do.

“You kidsies get off of him! He's exhausted!” Scratchy yells, digging through the duffel for the new medicine of the hour. “And it's already way past your kids bedtime, It’s almost 11pm!”

“Tsk tsk tsk, haven’t you heard Scratch? Time is subjective!” Wakko scolded. “I can say it’s 8am and STILL be right, so…” Wakko sticks his tongue out at Scratchy, eliciting laughter from both his siblings. Laughing seems to be too much for Yakko to handle, as he goes into another coughing fit. This one was short, but it was still painful. Now he was coughing up something… wet?

“He’s probably right sibs,” Yakko says, recovering from his fit, “even I’m pretty beat. Hey, if you guys wake up early enough, I promise we’ll do something fun tomorrow! I’m well enough to go too!” He finishes, obviously lying. Wakko and Dot look at each other hopefully, albeit concerned, and nod. They jump in the air and land on their p-psychiatrists shoulders.

“Can Scwatchy tuck us in and sing us a lullaby, pwetty pwease?” They sarcastically coo to the man.

“Off to bed! Off I say!” Scratchy commands as he shoos the younger siblings into their rooms, their laughter heard as they walk away, properly reassured.

“Night Yakko!” The kids yell from the hallway. Yakko doesn’t respond.

When Scratchy returns from the monumental task of making the hyperactive kids stay in their room, he is greeted with a horrifying sight. Yakko staring at a tissue, the one he was coughing into. The tissue is covered in… blood. Toon blood. Pitch black ink.

“They can’t know,” Yakko begins shakily,” They can’t know it's getting worse. I have to get better for THEM. They’re already worried about our new salary, I can’t let this fall on their shoulders now.” Scratch was unaware Yakko told them about the meeting. Bombshells dropping left and right. Great!

“Yakko let me see,” Scratchy gently takes the tissue from Yakko, tears welling in the boy's eyes. He inspects it more. The ink is clotted, the color contrasting greatly with the white tissue. Clotting isn’t good. This is blood coming from DEEP within.

“Am I going to die?” Yakko asked, seemingly out of nowhere. He stared at Scratchy with tears pouring down his face, and began to sob. Scratchy slowly got on the couch and hugged Yakko, allowing him to sob into his white coat. They sat like that for a while, both too afraid to answer the question still lingering. As the hours went by, Yakko fell asleep, still being held by Scratchy. His breathing was obstructed from whatever infection was attacking him. Scratchy could hear the liquid gathering in his lungs whenever he exhaled. Yakko had gotten visibly sickly as well. Scratchy took note of his thinning fur and paler complexion. A fever of 103 completed the sickness with a cherry on top. Scratchy wiped the tears that began to form in his eyes. _No, I need to stay strong. These kids need me._ Scratchy carried Yakko to his bedroom and set him gently on the bed. He tucked Yakko in and got his own bed ready on the couch. He isn’t leaving this tower until he figures what's wrong with him. The corporate fuckheads may not give a damn about these kids, but they are HIS kids now. He falls asleep creating dreams of a world where he can be their father. Where he can adopt him and they can be one happy family. If only someday he could.

The same night

“WHERE IS IT, WHERE?!” The small man yells, digging through papers upon papers on the floor in a dusty room, only illuminated by a single candle on the small table in the corner. The room is windowless, sporting burgundy shag carpeting and filing cabinets along each wall. 4 tall men in business suits stand near the door, repeatedly looking in and out of the room. They all move like a human, but not quite. Their movements seem stilted. Their faces are obscured by grey hooded cloaks. One man looks at the watch on his wrist, reading 4:54am

“Buddy, we need to get out of here soon, security should be making their rounds any mi-”

“SHUT UP!” Buddy screams. His rummaging becomes frantic, as cartoony sweat sprays from his forehead. He halts, and stares at a single sticky note held in his hands.

“Yes… I’ve found another!” Buddy jumps to his feet and holds the small piece of paper in front of him. The paper has a crude drawing of Yakko Warner, but there are key differences. This one has a bowtie, and blue eyes.

“Every piece of concept art I find of this grimey little shit, the closer I come to completely eradicating him! Him and his goblin posse got the reboot I DESERVED!” He screams at nothing. The henchmen at the door give each other increasingly frantic looks.

“Sir we need to go NOW, we’re putting ourselves at great risk of bei-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! I CREATED YOU TO HELP ME CARRY OUT MY PLANS, NOTHING MORE!” Buddy snaps at the man, quickly turning towards him. Buddy is wearing a tattered burgundy suit and tie. His flat black hair is parted in the middle. He turns his attention back at the sticky note. With a grinch-like smile and shaking hands, he rips the paper to pieces. He stares at it until every single piece has fallen on the floor. He turns to his henchmen.

“You should all be lucky I even gave you life. I could have done all this myself, but I was kind enough to let you all exist!” The henchmen look to their feet, hands behind their back.

“Sir, I thought I should let you know before we leave,” One pipes up, taking a step closer to Buddy, “I found a few pieces of another toon. You’re going to want to see this.” The tall henchmen, in a blue blazer with black dress pants complete with a hooded cloak, hands Buddy a folder. Buddy opens up the folder and freezes, his face an unreadable shade of _holy fuck._

“Where did you find this?” Buddy asks.

“In the 1st room we searched tonight. I believe we may find his companions' art in the West wing.” The henchman murmured. Buddy takes a single paper from the folder. It’s a piece of concept art of Pinky. He had more hair and smaller feet. The entire folder is filled with just Pinky’s concept art. Buddy slips the paper back in the folder, a small grin slipping onto his face.

“Good work tonight men, this will surely be a great ransom. We will return to the surface at once, and begin our search when nightfall hits again.” And with that, each man took position on every side of Buddy, as they walked briskly toward the ladder at the end of the hallway. They climbed until they reached a sewer grate, lifting it up and coming out onto the street outside of the WB lot. The sunrise temporarily blinds the henchmen, now following behind their leader.

“Would you like us to escort you to the base, sir?” A henchman says.

“I’m fine, thank you. I want you all to take your places as the corporate execs in their offices before any workers show up today. We can’t run any risk of getting caught.” Buddy states. The henchmen nod, turn around, and begin to walk towards the buildings on set, almost robotically.

“Soon, we will have our full vengeance, and everything those Warners, and all those creepy little Animaniacs have, will be crumbling down before their eyes. I will tear their world apart systematically, piece by piece.” Buddy says to himself as he walks into the forest, “A genocide is to fall upon toonkind. Mark my words.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, heres the second chapter a little early.lmk ur thoughts in the comments B)

**Author's Note:**

> Heiyooo so this is my 2nd work. I want to be a bit more dedicated to this one since Animaniacs is my current obession. My goal is to update at least once a week, so every Saturday night. Lmk ur thoughts!! B)


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